Special Ops: Umbrella Drinks and Shotguns
by cswang
Summary: Shortly after the end of the Reaper War, Susan Rizzi - and the rest of the galaxy - is still adjusting to the changes wrought by its conclusion. With upheavals to her personal and professional life, a peaceful little vacation with her husband should be just the thing...


**Author's Note:**

Hello dear readers; this is another companion piece to _Special Ops_. As expected, this one probably won't make a lot of sense if you haven't read that one. These events occur several months after the end of _Special Ops._

* * *

><p>"I wish we could do this more often." Susan Rizzi-Wu stretched out on the beach towel underneath her and sighed, luxuriating in the gentle warmth of the Nevos afternoon as a breeze washed over her bikini-clad body. She looked down past her sand-coated toes, where the glittering blue expanse of the ocean lay. The gorgeous view stretched on just as had once been advertised. It looked untouched, pristine – and if she stared very hard she could almost believe the war had never touched this place.<p>

Which she knew wasn't true since she'd run a mission in the mountains inland. But at least out here on the beaches she could pretend.

"It'd be nice." At her side Elijah Wu stretched out on a similar towel, tropical shirt unbuttoned to let the sun fall on his chest. Susan let her gaze linger on her husband's body for a moment; he'd lost weight in the months following the end of the war. She glanced down at her hips and the way the bones visibly protruded through the lavender sarong wrap. Biotics and widespread shortages everywhere made for a poor combination. "But we've been busy," he said.

"Yeah. Who'd have thought life after the Reapers would be so hectic?"

"I don't think anybody thought there _would _be life after the Reapers." Elijah shifted on his towel. "Anyways, I know we didn't get a chance for a proper honeymoon…"

"Like you said, we were busy. Transferring to the Seraphs, buying a ship…"

"I know," he said. "But I'm glad we got a break. The galaxy will still be there without for us a week."

"It can't be _that _bad if there are still fully functional tropical resorts, right?" Susan glanced up over her shoulder towards where the extended beach bar of the hotel complex stood on a rock outcropping nearly half a kilometer away. The long and low cabana was a mix of glittering asari architecture and stereotypical tropic themed props that somehow made it work, and she grinned slightly before turning back to face the sky and closed her eyes. _We'll see how good their Eezo Blasters are later._ "And people visiting, too. Lot more than I would've thought; I guess people are eager to get away from it all."

"It does feel a little strange," Elijah said after another moment. "Almost like we shouldn't be enjoying ourselves with everything going on."

"Hey." Susan pushed herself up on one elbow and half-rolled to face him. "There are some things we can change and some we can't…"

"- Don't let the things we can't steal our joys. I know. I'm sure we'll have plenty to worry about when we get back out there. For now we're just going to have ourselves a nice, quiet little vacation."

She chuckled as she returned to her original position. "There's nothing quiet about your shirt."

"Hey!"

Susan looked over at him and shook her head. "I still can't believe you're actually wearing that."

"It was a gift from Grahzshik."

"Have you seen what he considers camouflage? I think he's colorblind, honey."

Elijah looked down at his floral print shirt; lavender, orange, and bright green patterns covered square centimeter in a riotous array of colors. "That wouldn't surprise me. It's the thought that matters, though."

"Admirable sentiment… but I can still call in an orbital strike using just your shirt as a target."

Elijah laughed. "That may have been its original purpose."

"As soon as we get back to the room we're packing that monstrosity away."

"And if this is the only shirt I packed?" He returned her glance with an impish grin. "I'm kidding."

"You'd better be." Susan lay back, enjoying the sensation of the sun upon her bare legs and midriff. "Besides, who said we'll be wearing anything?"

"Now there's an enticing thought. But I do think we'd want to be dressed for dinner… especially with reservations at the Blossoming Flavor."

She sat up swiftly. "You got reservations at the- how?"

"N7s are popular these days." Elijah crossed his arms behind his head and shifted, smiling at the sky with his eyes closed. "Especially ones with millions of extranet hits."

Susan groaned. "Please tell me you didn't leverage the Shepard recovery clips."

"No no, just the procurement ones." He laughed as she reached over and gave him a gentle thump on the shoulder. "It got us in. You're a hero, Susan."

Her smile disappeared. "No I'm not. I just got lucky when others weren't."

Elijah opened his eyes and looked up at her. Susan held his gaze for a moment, then looked away towards the ocean and the cresting waves. He sat up and moved closer to her, draped an arm around her shoulders. "You're a hero to me," he whispered. "Always."

She reached up and took his hand, closed her eyes and leaned into him. "I don't feel like one these days."

"So don't try to be one. Just be… for now, just be a beautiful woman taking a much-deserved break. Be somebody taking in the wonder of an amazing beach. And getting the first really good meal we've had in a while."

"I don't mind the nutri-rations when I'm sharing with you," Susan smiled. "You have a point, though. Let's just enjoy ourselves. A nice, quiet vacation, just-"

She broke off as a small craft roared in around the cove, curving towards the resort. It hovered a bare handful of meters above the water, trails of misting water spreading behind its thrusters. Other resort guests shouted and screamed as the craft powered in and the thunder of its engines rose to deafening levels. Susan shielded her face as the familiar angular shape of the vehicle shot past the beach, leaving sprays of sand in its wake. She turned to track it, frowning. "That was a-"

"Kodiak," Elijah said. "Doesn't look like they're here for a vacation, either."

"No markings, stripped paint. Scavenged, you think?"

"Did you get a look at the underside? Looks like it was pulled from a pretty nasty crash."

"And never fixed up, at least not by an official crew… robbers, you think? A heist crew?"

"Or pirates. Hard times make for desperate people." Elijah rose to his feet in one smooth motion, glanced around at the sparse crowds on the beach. "Doubt they're in such a rush for the scenery."

"Probably not." Susan pushed herself up as well and started yelling for the other guests to remain on the beach until they could investigate the situation. The crowd milled around in alarm and confusion as the N7s ran up the beach towards the intricately paved path to the resort. Susan mentally cursed her sandals – and her swimwear, a far cry from her combat armor. She sighed. "So much for a quiet vacation."

* * *

><p>The Beachside Libation bar was the closest part of the hotel to the beach. Susan and Elijah slipped in through a side door after peering in to check for occupants. They stayed low, spreading out and moving behind the thick mahogany tables and chairs in order to let their eyes adjust to the dimmer interior. Surprisingly the place was empty: they were still some hours from sundown, but she'd expected at least a bartender…<p>

"Over here." Elijah checked behind the bar counter with its rows of artful bottles – though the general shortages meant there were fewer than the standard from before the war. Of course, they'd never have been able to afford a trip like this before the war. Elijah nodded towards one end of the bar; a screen displayed observation cam footage of the resort lobby several corridors away.

Susan watched an asari in a neat suit and apron walk past on the screen, back to the cam with her hands above her head. A man in a partial suit of armor followed, submachine gun drawn and aimed at her back. "Looks like a heist of some sort," Susan said.

Elijah tapped at the haptic controls, paging through several views of the lobby. "They're gathering people to the reception counter…"

"More than ten of them… looks like they have people on the second floor of the lobby as well."

"Crap."

"What?"

"That means they have the ways up to the rooms blocked off. I left the pistols there."

"Well, we weren't exactly going to be packing Hurricanes like this." Susan gestured at her swimwear; it left little to the imagination and even less space to conceal a weapon.

"Still a rookie mistake," Elijah said.

"Don't beat yourself up." Susan held up one hand, swirling with biotic energy. "Save that for the bad guys."

"I'm on board with that-" Elijah stopped, held a finger up, then motioned down. They ducked behind the counter a second before the interior door slid open with a musical chime. Footsteps approached the bar, striking the pale wood floor like drumbeats. Susan tilted her head, listening hard, then looked over at Elijah and held up one finger. He nodded after listening for another second.

A gun barrel hit the countertop above Elijah's head with a clatter. They tensed but remained still as somebody rummaged through the arranged bottles. "Drell mead? Where do they even get this stuff these days?"

Elijah pointed to himself and made a hooking motion; Susan tensed her muscles and readied her biotics. She gave him a sharp nod and burst up, snatching the Shuriken from the bar top as Elijah lunged up, seized the would-be plunderer by the neck, and hauled him over the bar with a crash of displacing bottles. Susan stayed up for another moment, covering the rest of the lounge as a thud of impact sounded from down beside her.

A pained groan drifted up and she glanced down to see Elijah pinning a ragged-looking man in a control grapple. Confusion fogged his eyes. "There's not supposed to be anyone in here."

"We fancied a drink," Elijah said. "And some conversation."

Susan crouched down, plucked a worn combat knife from the man's belt – and frowned at the old bloodstains crusting the blade. She placed it aside. "So. Let's talk."

* * *

><p>They left the robber tied up in the bar's supply closet, secured with barrel ties and utility tape. Susan suppressed a grin; the last time she'd taped somebody to a wall had been over a decade ago. Of course, she hadn't quite mastered the art of biotically pinning somebody to upside-down to a wall back then. "Think that'll hold him?"<p>

"Should do for now," Elijah said, tucking more barrel ties into his pockets. "I'm more worried about the other guests coming up. That's going to happen sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, that'll be bad. Bunch of tourists walking into a hostage situation? Perfect situation for a bloodbath."

"And I'm not sure how far away a police response is – if these guys were smart they'd have shut the comms down first."

"If Mister Wall Mummy back there is any indication, you may be giving them too much credit."

"So they're stupid and desperate; that makes things worse."

"I know." Susan sighed. Why did these things keep happening to them? The war's end should have heralded an era of peace… "Okay, let's take them before this goes any further. Less than a dozen, bunched up in the lobby, easy."

Elijah grinned. "You do know we left our armor on the _Sperare_, right?"

"We'll just have to be creative."

"We're also unlikely to be invited back if you dissolve people with your biotics."

"No, I was thinking nonlethal. Less paperwork that way."

"Good thinking." Elijah swung back over to the cam view. "Okay, ten hostiles – spread across two levels in an open concourse, multiple hostages. And you want to do it nonlethal. That leaves us with… well, your bikini's quite deadly."

"You say the sweetest things when we charge off into peril." Susan half-smiled. "We can take them in sync. I'll get into the middle of the lobby group; you take the guys on the second floor balconies."

"That's risky, why you?"

"Because I'm the one with the biotic aura that annihilates everything around me, remember?"

"True, but you're also in a bathing suit."

"Trust me."

"I do. The balconies won't be a problem." Elijah tapped his lips for a moment. "Lots of little privacy screens and booths. How are you planning on getting into the middle of the lobby?"

"Hmm." Susan shot a quick glance to the other side of the bar, then reached over and grabbed an undisturbed bottle of batarian firegut.

Elijah arched an eyebrow. "Is this really the time?"

"Hush." Susan opened the stubby bottle, wincing at the eye-watering fumes that boiled out. Blocking the opening with her thumb, she brought the bottle up and generously drizzled the liquor across the top of her swimsuit as Elijah watched with keen interest. She winked at him, then took a swig and swirled the pungent, bittersweet spirit around her mouth before leaning over to spit it out in a nearby sink. "Blegh. Ryncol tastes better."

"What are you doing?"

"Well, a girl's bound to drown her sorrows when her husband leaves her suddenly."

Elijah blinked. "What?"

Susan brought the back of one hand to her forehead and swayed. "Gon' drink til it don't hurt. An' nobody's getting' in my way."

"I didn't know you spoke like a Neo-Confederate colonist when you're drunk."

"Hush, you."

"Let me get this straight." Elijah crossed his arms. "You plan to waltz into the middle of the lobby by pretending to be drunk off your-" He glanced down. "Very lovely ass?"

"Yup."

"And what's with the husband running off?"

"You're going to be doing your ninja thing, remember? Try to keep up, dear."

"Should I even begin to list the ways this could go wrong?"

"The longer we delay the more danger for the other guests. Relax, Elijah. We've got this."

"I'd feel better if we had some gear."

"Not to mention Lisa, Maiena, and Felix. We'll make do." Susan nodded at the doorway leading towards the lobby. "There are stairs up to the lobby balconies in that corridor, right?"

"Yeah. Okay, we should probably hurry."

They closed on the open doorway, taking position on either side. Susan glanced in; a cheerfully lit corridor greeted her sight. A double row of spiraling silver asari columns ran down its length, dividing the corridor into thirds. The couple slipped in, checking the sides. They made it halfway to the far door when the musical chime sounded, signaling somebody on the other side approaching. Susan and Elijah each ducked behind opposite columns as the door slid open.

"Blake, you there? You cleaning out the bar already? Greedy bastard, I told you to wait for me."

Susan looked over to Elijah and signed a brief set of actions. He nodded and slipped around out of sight. She shifted her grip on the bottle and groaned.

"Blake? That you?" Footsteps.

Moving slowly, Susan slumped around the column into the middle of the corridor. A man in stained coveralls paused in his steps, unremarkable except for the battered Predator pistol in his hand. "What's goin' on?" she slurred. "Who're you?"

His eyes widened and the Predator twitched in his grip. "You're supposed to be with- what are you doing?"

Susan pushed herself off the column and staggered towards the target. He really didn't look so good, she thought. Bags under his eyes, the spare frame of somebody perpetually on the cusp of malnourishment. "You looking for the bar? You're late to the… party. It's not much of one. Party, that is. Pitiful. Pity party, is what it is."

"Um, we're supposed to be robbing you all. I need you to come along quietly and-"

"I gave him the best years of my life!" She kept closing, punctuating each word with a jab of her finger and a swing of the bottle. The haze of batarian whiskey hung thick on her breath. "He promised we'd always be together! Even through the Reapers…"

"What are you talking about?"

_That's it, just stay right there._ "Have you seen my husband around? Tall, good-looking? No?" She'd gotten close enough that he was almost within arm's reach now.

"Okay lady, I think you're drunk. You should come with me, I'll get you all sorted-"

Susan swayed and staggered in a little half-step forward. "He just left! Took advantage of me after everything I gave him and left! He… he…" She straightened. "He's behind you."

"What?"

Elijah's arm snaked around the man's neck, tucking it into his elbow in a sleeper hold as his other hand clamped over the surprised robber's mouth. Susan was already going for his gun, hooking his wrist as she tore the weapon from his hand in a deft twist. The man flailed haplessly for several seconds as Elijah tightened his hold, then went limp. His eyes rolled back, sliding into unconsciousness.

Susan checked the dirty Predator pistol as Elijah bound the senseless robber's hands and feet. "No thermal clip. These guys must be desperate."

"Lots of people are." Elijah looked up at her for a moment, a multitude of expressions fluttering over his face like the shadow of an eclipse. Finally he settled on a wry grin. "Do you really have to make my job harder?"

"You're having fun."

He shrugged. "True enough."

Elijah bundled their prisoner into a corner out of sight. He glanced around the doorway to another short hallway leading to the lobby and the staircase up. Susan adjusted the straps of her bikini top and squared her shoulders. She blew a breath out. "No problem."

"This might actually work."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, dear." Susan smiled briefly, swirled the contents of the bottle, and swayed drunkenly. "He left me just like that…"

Another shadow flitted across his face. "Give me one minute before you breach." He moved like a varren on the hunt - quick and quiet – to the staircase and bounded up two steps at a time. Susan headed for the lobby. Angry shouts came from up ahead; she heard the guttural trill of a batarian shouting at resort guests and staff to stay down.

Susan slipped into the lobby, ducked behind another decorative chrome pillar, and took the opportunity to check the space again. Sides, clear. The robbers had gathered everybody on the ground floor down around the reception counter. Frightened-looking guests sat on the floor, backs against the counter and hands laced behind their heads. Four individuals stood around the counter in a mix of battered armor pieces and jumpsuits.

"Stay down! I see any omni-tools; I'm taking them – and the hands holding them!" The batarian, swaggering around like he owned the place – which admittedly wasn't far from the truth at the moment. He clutched a fat-bladed _klaidosh_ cleaver in one hand and a Carnifex in the other.

A man and a woman behind the counter, in armor parts that looked like they'd been through a thresher maw's digestive tract. Both sported livid burn scars consistent with close calls from arc weaponry. Finally a salarian, matte worksuit draping off his slim frame like a sail on a still sea. All carried weapons that looked like they'd been scavenged from the ravaged battlefields of the Reaper War.

"Security codes," the batarian said. "Access and overrides. Sooner we get them, sooner we leave. With your valuables, of course."

Susan stumbled out into the open, feigning obliviousness to everything as she approached the counter. The salarian noticed her first; he brought his gun up, and then paused in confusion as Susan walked past without looking at him. She staggered up against the counter next to the batarian, who stopped yelling at the guests and staff as he finally noticed her.

Susan felt all eyes on her. She thumped the bottle onto the glossy reception counter. Leaning over at a precarious angle, she squinted up at the batarian. "Haven't seen my husband, have you?"

"I- Your- No… What the hell are you doing?"

"My _husband."_ Leaning over even more, Susan jabbed a finger into the batarian's chest to the collective horrified gasp from the other guests. It caught the batarian off-guard though; he stared down at her hand, frowning. The man and woman behind the counter looked caught between aiming their weapons at her and sitting back to watch the show. She blew a long breath up at the batarian's face, making sure he got a full whiff of the firegut. "He's a tall man, about your height. Better looking."

"No, I've never- hey, why weren't you rounded up with every-"

"He just left! After everything we've been through!" Susan slumped over, buried her face in the crook of her arm, and started sobbing. She nearly gave the whole thing away when she realized with some surprise her tears weren't faked. "Took advantage and then gone!"

"She's totally wasted," the woman robber said. "Just shoot her and get it over with."

"Unwise," the salarian said. "Unnecessary escalation of force results in… complications. Recall Malcron heist."

"I _told_ that guy not to annoy me."

"And then you chucked him into an engine turbine," said the batarian. "_Our_ engine turbine, which we needed for the escape!"

"It worked out."

Susan burst out into renewed sobs. "He said it always would!"

The woman groaned. "Look, if I shoot her, it'd just be putting her out of her misery."

"Provoking asari armed response unwise," said the salarian, burying his face in one hand. "Still have many resources to call upon."

"Calls…" Susan said. "He used to call. We'd stay up late talking. And he just left me!"

"Oh, spare me." The woman rolled her eyes but lowered her weapon. "Let's just get the security codes, clean this place out, and get the hell out of dodge."

"A much better plan," the salarian said.

"Shut it, Tholks." The batarian scowled at Susan. "So where'd your husband go?"

"Oh, don't tell me we're going to go looking for him!"

"He's a loose end."

"So you're goin' bring him back to me?" Susan said. "He just left me this morning."

"What?" said one of the resort staff sitting on the floor. "Isn't your husband that guy in the goofy shirt? But he was just with you." Susan gave a mental groan as the batarian squinted suspiciously at her. She did her best to look hopelessly drunk while the staff worker continued, "Yeah, you were just down on the beach. You two looked so close."

_Curse that shirt._

The batarian leaned in, raising the _klaidosh _tip towards her_._ "Something's off about this whole thing. What's going on here?"

Susan straightened and shrugged. "Well, it was worth a try." She raised the bottle to her lips, swigged a mouthful as the blade came even closer. The salarian approached from behind her; Susan glanced over her shoulder, marking his position.

The batarian shifted the grip on his blade and – Susan spat the mouthful of stinging liquor into his four eyes. He recoiled, screaming and flailing; Susan struck out with her left hand and twisted the Carnifex from his grasp. Simultaneously she dropped the firegut bottle – and seized it with her biotics, launching it into the salarian's head. The bottle landed with a sharp _thud_, spewing a trail of firegut through the air as it rebounded away.

Susan threw herself into a biotic blink through the reception counter before the salarian even hit the floor. She came up close to the surprised man and woman, both of whom scrambled to raise their guns. A flick of her arm sent a planar biotic wave bursting out; it caught both of the robbers and hurled them senseless into the sculpted wall behind. She spun.

"Drop it." Susan took aim with the Carnifex as the batarian wiped his eyes clear, blinking and cursing furiously. She flung her other arm out behind her, sending a biotic bolt into the rising woman. Another crash against the wall. "Now!"

The shocked guests and staff finally reacted. Screams and gasps came as people of various species pushed away, staying low beneath the counter. Susan was just glad they weren't standing or bolting. The batarian glanced around and Susan's finger tightened on the trigger. _Please don't make me do this. _"Drop. It."

The _klaidosh_ hit the ground with a dull thump. "You can't win," the batarian said. "I've still got people upstairs. One word from me and-"

Elijah appeared in a crackle of biotic energy a half-meter above the ground floor, holding an appropriated shotgun. He dropped the rest of the way into an easy crouch, vibrant shirt fluttering behind him. Susan smirked; she couldn't decide whether the entrance was just the kind of smooth move that she enjoyed seeing from him – or if the shirt just ruined it.

"I beg to differ," she said, tilting her head to glance past towards her husband. "Hi, honey. Anyone still alive up there?"

"Marginally." Elijah rose, took a long sidestep to clear the line of fire to the batarian. "Move away from the counter and place your hands on your head."

"You- what did…" The wide-eyed batarian glanced up at the balconies.

"We spared your crew," Elijah said. "We're extending the same offer to you – once."

"You wouldn't-"

"Try us," Susan said. "Hands, head, now."

"Alright, alright!"

Elijah looked over to the asari who'd checked them into the resort that morning. "Ma'am, you should call the authorities now."

"We need a fully kitted omni-tool here as well," Susan added. "Flash-fab some basic restraints."

Elijah moved over to the unconscious salarian and gathered up his weapon. He gave Susan a wry grin as she likewise went to collect weapons from unconscious assailants. "That went better than expected."

Susan sighed and shook her head. "We are burning that shirt."

* * *

><p>The response from authorities came much faster than Susan had expected, given the general state of the galaxy. On the other hand, with Nevos one of the few relatively unscathed known and accessible tourist destinations, perhaps that wasn't surprising. The asari had always been savvy about such business opportunities.<p>

"And one more in the bar's supply closet," Susan said to Officer Naerwa. "We stuck him to the wall."

Naerwa turned away from the line of cuffed heisters being loaded into shuttles. "We'll get him." She glanced down at her data pad. "Normally I'd say leave confronting a group of armed criminals to us, but you two handled that rather well. You soldiers?"

"N7s." Elijah passed over the confiscated shotgun.

"Explains the scars on both of you. Look, we appreciate the intervention, but try not to make a habit of it, hmm?" Naerwa glanced at Elijah's shirt. "Especially dressed like that."

Susan smiled bitterly. "You're a lifetime late with that advice."

"Don't I know it? Look, stick around. I'm sure the tourism group – or what's left of it – will want to give you a medal or say something nice. If you'll excuse me, I need to get these reports started. At least there weren't bystander casualties." Naerwa nodded and walked off toward the shuttles, muttering to herself. "Seriously, who the hell robs a beach resort? They can't be that desperate for fruity drinks…"

The couple waited while law enforcement finished loading the heist crew. Last aboard a shuttle was the one from the bar – still swaddled in utility tape. Elijah chuckled as a pair of officers hauled the bundled man out like a log, tossing him none too gently into the back of a shuttle. "That's the last time we're going on vacation without our armor." His grin faded as he turned and saw Susan's expression.

"It's kind of sad that I both understand and agree with you there." She took a half-step back; guests were starting to stream from the resort entrance, watching the spectacle of the prisoner loading. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Okay." Elijah squeezed her hand briefly. Susan gave him a grateful nod; he'd indulged her avoidance of public scenes whenever possible since the end of the war, gave her the time and space to work through things. "You know, I'm sure some of them would like to thank you."

"There's no need. You know the questions will follow."

"Okay," Elijah said again. "Back to the beach?"

"Sure." Susan slipped her arm through Elijah's. "Nothing like a little combat followed by walks along the beach."

* * *

><p>The surf washed up over the sand and bathed Susan's feet in cool water. She looked behind as the wave receded, wiping away the traces of their footprints. More resort guests were filtering down towards the beach, albeit fewer than before. Violent heists had a way of disagreeing with people on vacation, she decided.<p>

"Are you alright?" Elijah said.

"Yeah, I'm- I'll be fine." Susan turned her gaze to him. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Maybe. Running supplies to colonies is good, but… heh. That was fun." He chuckled. "And oddly reminiscent of our first date."

Susan stared at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised. She smirked. "I'm not sure that qualified as a date."

"Sure it did. There was food, dancing, fancy clothes."

"We got into a fight with armored mercs."

"Which we won – in evening wear."

"I got hit with an Overload."

"You gave more than you got. And we still won."

"I was thrown into a giant crate of peaches."

Elijah's grin turned wicked. "I seem to recall getting you clean – _very_ thoroughly."

Heat surged up Susan's body as she thought back to that first evening; his lips and tongue exploring the curves of her flesh and the frantic, almost desperate urgency of their- "I don't think anything we did that night can be considered _clean._"

"So it was a memorable date then."

"Yes, fine – it was a date." Her smile grew playful. "On the subject of getting clean, did you see the size of the shower in our room? We should take advantage of that later."

"Definitely." Elijah paused, frowned. "Speaking of taking advantage…"

"What is it?"

"What you were saying earlier to the robbers… that was hard to hear."

"That was playacting."

"Not all of it." He stepped closer, eyes sad – and determined. "I know you better than that. Are you really afraid I'll just leave?"

Susan glanced away, blinked at the sudden moisture in her eyes and tightness in her throat. She looked back at her husband. "Everybody leaves."

"_Leaves._ Ah, like family – and friends." Elijah nodded knowingly. He reached up with one hand, stroked her damp cheek. "Hey. I'm not going anywhere. Whatever time is given to us, however long we have, I am yours."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently.

"And I'm yours," she whispered. Her arms wrapped around him and Susan pressed herself into the embrace. She let the warmth drive back the memories of the war, the turbulence awoken in her by the day's events. "I'm sorry. It's been a rough-"

"Year. I know. Reaper apocalypse and all that."

Susan wiped her eyes. "Yeah. Missions, the end of the galaxy, marriage."

Elijah tilted his head down level with hers and smiled. "I'm flattered I rank up there with a near galactic extinction."

Susan laughed, relieved and gladdened that she _could._ She leaned in, kissed him hard, and smiled as she pulled back fractionally. "Just remember, you volunteered to put up with my crazy."

"You did put up with mine first." He rested his forehead against hers gently and Susan closed her eyes.

"Stay with me," she whispered.

"Always."

They leapt as another wave surged up, crashing up against their legs. Susan laughed helplessly and threw her arms around Elijah again. "We really should do this more often."

"What, stop heists in our swimwear?"

"Take the time to even _be_ in swimwear. Not worry about the galaxy falling apart." She sighed. "Sometimes… with everything we've lost, do you think things can ever get better? Or even back to the way they were before?"

"I don't know. I'm not really sure what life is supposed to look like after the apocalypse. But we're alive; that has to count for something, right?"

"I suppose."

"As long as you're here," Elijah said, "the future will be alright."

"That's sweet of you to say." Susan kissed him on the cheek and turned in the embrace to face the ocean. She leaned back against Elijah as his arms slipped down to wrap around her waist. "We'll take the little victories."

"Like today. That was some good work you did there."

"You just like seeing me fight in a bikini, don't you?"

"That _is_ generally true."

"Mmm. We'll get to that later." Susan smiled out at the calm ocean glittering in the afternoon sun.

"I like the sound of that." His voice was a warm whisper against her ear. "Don't forget; we still have dinner."

"And then… there's dessert."

Elijah chuckled; the rumbles of his chest pulsed through her back like warm waves. "Marx has been rubbing off on you."

Susan twisted in his arms and pecked him on the cheek. "I even packed the fuzzy cuffs," she said, and grinned innocently at his expression. "So, think we can still make those reservations?"


End file.
